


Drive By

by noblydonedonnanoble



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-20
Updated: 2012-11-24
Packaged: 2017-11-19 02:44:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/568182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noblydonedonnanoble/pseuds/noblydonedonnanoble





	1. Chapter 1

                It’s been weeks since it happened, and they’re still dancing around one another. When Donna’s eating a late-night snack and the Doctor wanders into the kitchen, she finds an excuse to leave; when she trips off a ledge and stumbles into his arms, they jump apart, deer in the headlights looks on their faces.

                He’s dreading the day when she’ll come and tell him she wants to leave—because Donna doesn’t stand for discomfort, and if she’s uncomfortable with the Doctor, she’ll make it known.

                He doesn’t want her to leave.

                If he’d been smart, he wouldn’t have done it. He should have just let it lie.

                But he’s never been very good at that. Always poking, prodding. Desperate to know, to learn and to understand.

                So he did it.

                For the exact same reason, of course, he brings it up again.

*

                The Doctor finds her in the library, a month after the initial incident. She looks vaguely alarmed when he appears, and he notices her rising out of her seat. Before she can say anything, though, he smiles genially and says, “Just here to do a bit of light reading. Don’t leave on my account.”

*

                _“Don’t stop on my account,” she says cheerfully._

_Donna settles into the seat beside him and flags down a waiter. “I’ll have what he’s having.”_

_“I—I’m not—“ The Doctor scratches his head, frowning and looking her up and down. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”_

_When the glass is placed in front of her, she reaches for it eagerly. “Don’t be silly, Spaceman. I’m perfectly capable of holding my liquor.”_

_Instead of protesting, he shrugs and watches as she empties the glass. “Suit yourself. Don’t expect me to carry you back to the TARDIS; I’ve got a bad back, you know.”_

_“’S nothing to worry about,” she assures him, before they lapse into silence._

*

                They sit in silence together for quite some time, though Donna feels skeptical about his assurances. The Doctor hasn’t read a single word because he’s so acutely aware of Donna’s presence. And he’s lucky that she’s doing her best to keep her gaze fixed on her book, because his own is, in fact, upside-down.

                He clears his throat one too many times, and Donna throws a balled-up piece of paper at his head. “Do you mind?”

                Before returning back to her book, she notices that his isn’t facing the right way. She flushes slightly, but says nothing, and she hopes he’ll honor her unspoken request to leave it alone.

*

                _The Doctor has honored her wishes for a long time. He’s always been careful to keep that line very clear between them—because if they crossed the_ just mates _line, it would be essentially impossible to return to what they were before. And he wants Donna around. He’s grown attached to her, even if she does insist that he’s from Mars._

_He doesn’t even want to cross the line, of course._

_So he knows that it’s the alcohol._

_Nothing else would make him react so strongly when her knee bumps his own under the table. And when she smiles at him. Hell, even the smell of her soap is igniting something inside him that he really doesn’t like._

_Well, perhaps it would be better to say that he likes it a bit too much._

_They’re on a planet renowned for its alcohol, and for its rather intense effects, so he knows that it’s certainly the alcohol._

_And when did they start holding hands?_

_He also doesn’t mind the hand holding like he should._

_Or the way she’s started to lean against him._

_Donna gazes pensively at her glass. “Why don’t we do this more often, Doctor? Just go to places around the universe and sit like this, together?”_

_“What, do you not like the running?”_

_She giggles; she’s been doing a lot of that over the past hour or so. “This is nice, though. I like sitting with you.”_

_And the Doctor is glowing—purely because of the alcohol, of course. Definitely not because of Donna, of course. Somehow._

*

                Something snaps inside him, somehow. He snaps and he throws his book to the ground, prompting Donna to jump about five feet into the air. Yet again, she looks up at him with an alarmed expression in her face. “Doctor?”

                “Can we stop this already, Donna? Please?”

*

_“Doctor, stop.” She’s still laughing, though now over some not-very-clever joke he just told her that he’s already forgotten. “It’s not very nice to poke fun at the Sontarans, even with their unfortunate resemblance to potatoes.”_

_“If one heard me, he’d just challenge me to an honorable battle to the death. Wouldn’t be a bad way to go, especially what with some of the things I’ve been through.”_

_“Oi! I’m not gonna let some Sontaran kill you on an alien planet. I prefer my Doctor in one living piece, thank you very much.”_

_“Your Doctor?”_

_Even though her mouth is still in the general shape of a smile, the Doctor still gets the sense that she’s frowning. “Did I say my Doctor?”_

_“I believe you did.”_

_“Ah. Well. Bit of a Freudian slip, I suppose.”_

_“Hmm, I wonder what Freud would say about that…” The Doctor gestures toward the door. “Would you like to go ask him?”_

_She goes silent. And the Doctor does too._

_For a while._

_“Your Doctor?”_

_When she pulls her hand away from his, he notices. “Drop it, Spaceman.”_

*

                “I won’t drop it. There are some things that you just can’t ignore, Donna. Clearly, we can’t ignore this.”

*

_She appears intent to ignore him, because she stands up and storms out of the pub, leaving the Doctor to follow behind feeling rather dejected. But when he reaches the TARDIS, she’s standing outside the door, fumbling through pockets in search of the key._

_“Donna,” he says, pulling out his own key and sliding it into the lock. “I think you might be plastered.”_

_“Am not.”_

_When he opens the door, she practically runs away from him, but he calls after her. “Donna.” She turns back and looks at him expectantly. “I... I was only teasing.”_

_Instead of answering, she remains stationary, watching him. Speculating._

_Speculating what?_

*

                “I’m tired of all of this speculation, of trying to figure out what’s going through your head. Of trying to figure out when you’re going to get tired of this and insist that I bring you home.”

                For the first time, her expression goes a bit soft. “You think I want to go home?”

                “You… you don’t?”

                “’Course not, you dunce! I love it here with you.”

                The Doctor has begun to pace in front of her, and he’s trying so hard not to get worked up because he doesn’t want to scare her off now, when she’s actually started to open up. “But… I mean… After… well. You know.”

                She raises an eyebrow. “No, I don’t actually.”

                “Are you really going to make me say it?”

*

_“Don’t make me say it.”_

_“Say what?”_

_In the end, she doesn’t say anything._

_Based on the fact that she closes the distance between them and kisses him, though, he’s not left with any questions._

*

                Except he does have questions—countless questions.

                The most striking of which presently being, “What did I do wrong?”

*

                _The Doctor knows that he’s done something wrong when she pushes him in the chest—hard. He stumbles backward against the door, gazing at Donna with an expression of mixed joy and confusion. “What was that?”_

_“I just…” She almost looks like she’s in pain. “I wanted to do that. Once. While I had the courage.”_

_Now he can’t stop staring at her lips. “Once? Only once?”_

_Why not more than once? Why not over and over?_

_Because frankly, the Doctor knows quite well that he’s wanted to cross the line between them for quite some time._

*

                She wishes she’d never crossed that line.

                Well no. It’s not that. She wishes that she could cross the line with the knowledge that she’s not like every other woman he’s ever stolen away. She wishes she could believe that she means something different to him. That she means more to him.

                But really, why would she ever mean more to him?

                So if he wants this conversation, he’d bloody well play his part.

                Except when he’s not pissed, he’s much less willing to do or say anything. And he’s flushed and stammering and thankfully he finally gets out, “Well, you kissed me. And then you slapped me and said you were never doing it again. And I don’t understand.”

*

_He doesn’t understand the impression that she’s made._

_The Doctor is lying in bed, trying to fall asleep, and failing miserably. He can still feel the ghost of Donna’s lips on his own, can still taste her._

_Also, his cheek is still stinging._

_No woman has ever made him feel so lost._

*

                “I don’t want to be just another woman.”

                Again, the Doctor is confused. “Just another woman? What are you talking about?”

                “That’s why I said ‘just mates,’ Doctor. When I first agreed to come with you. Because I don’t want to be ‘your woman,’ or a notch on your bedpost.”

                For the first time, he understands.

                Donna wants to cross the line.

                She just thinks he’ll count her as one of many, just another on a (rather extended, admittedly) list of other women.

                Though no one is like her.

                How could anyone possibly rival her? No one else shouts at him, really engages him like she does. No one challenges him and makes every day more interesting just by existing.

                Really, how is it even a contest?

                He stands facing her, less than a foot away from where she’s seated. “So that’s what you think of me? Running about, sweeping women off their feet, promising them all of space and time?”

                “Yes.” It comes out as a whisper, but he hears it loud and clear. And when Donna gazes up at him, her eyes are so, so sad. “Charming the pants off of every poor women who encounters you.”

                “Charming?”

                “Oh, get off it!” she exclaims. “I’m being honest here, the least you could do is—“

                He shuts her up with a kiss. And she pushes him away, but in nowhere near as forceful a manner as that night, a month ago. “Spaceman.” She sounds like she’s trying to put some sort of warning into her voice, but it’s not working very well.

                “You think you’re just like everyone else. Why don’t you understand how special you are?”

                Donna’s first instinct is to protest. “Stop, Doctor. I know you too well to fall for that.”

                That hurts. His face falls considerably, and he runs a hand through his hair, distraught. “What can I possibly say that would make you believe me?”

                She doesn’t have to answer aloud, because they both know what she’s thinking: nothing. There’s nothing he could say.

                “No one’s as important to me as you,” he whispers.

                “Don’t patronize me,” she sighs.

                “You know I have more respect for you than that.”

                “Do you?”

                The Doctor grabs Donna’s hand out of her lap and holds it in his own. “To me, you’re the most important woman in the universe. No question.”

                The most important woman in the universe finally smiles.


	2. Chapter 2

                The most important woman in the universe fell in love with a man who showed her the stars. It was an accident, of course. Because he was supposed to be a mate. Nothing but a mate.

                The man she fell in love with didn’t deserve her. At least, he felt certain that he didn’t deserve her.

                Perhaps it’s for that very reason that the two of them really did deserve to get forever.

*

_“You’re the first person who I’ve wanted to travel with forever,” he says, so quietly that Donna wonders how much effort it took to get the words out._

_She pulls the Doctor into a hug. “I’ll stay, Spaceman. Forever. I’ll always be here.”_

*

                Without Donna there, the TARDIS feels empty.

                The Doctor feels empty.

*

                _Donna turns the box over in her hands, a puzzled expression on her face. “But… it’s empty.”_

_“I’ve already given you myself. What more could you possibly want?”_

_She looks skeptical. As touching of a sentiment as that may be, the Doctor’s never been one for touching sentiments. “Is this meant to be a joke?” she says, slowly._

_With a grin, he pulls another box out of his pocket. “’Course it is. How could I pass up the opportunity to give you something that puts a smile on your face?”_

*

                He misses her smile.

                Well, he misses everything about her, but her smile most of all.

                She didn’t smile at anyone like she smiled at the Doctor.

*

_“I don’t think there’s anyone who irritates me as much as you do,” she informs him one day._

_“And I should take that as a compliment, yes?”_

_He’s grinning so cheekily that if she said no, it would be a crime. So she grins back. “Sure. I suppose it could be viewed as a compliment of sorts.”_

_“Of sorts… I’m going for all or nothing here.”_

_“Don’t push it, Spaceman.”_

_Same cheeky expression on his face, he pulls her in for a kiss._

*

                Sometimes, he thinks about the last time he got to kiss her.

                If he’d known that it was going to be the last time, he would have made sure that it was memorable. As it is, he’s fairly surprised that he has even a vague recollection of the brief peck he received when he made a snarky comment that made her laugh.

                Although he has more than a vague recollection. He can still see her vividly in front of him, tugging on a shirt and leaning—

*

_—across his bed to straighten his tie, chuckling as he murmurs, “What, again already? Well, I suppose if that’s what you want…”_

_She uses his tie to pull him closer and pecks him on the lips, but releases him much sooner than he would have liked. “I’m trying to put you back together, not take you apart.”_

_“That’s tonight’s plans, yes?”_

_“If you’re lucky…”_

*

                The Doctor supposes that he’s just lucky that she’s alive and well out there, even if she’s not with him.

*

_“Did she think she’d be with you forever?” Donna asks._

_He looks up at her, puzzled. “Who?”_

_Instead of responding, she just raises an eyebrow at him._

_And he realizes, suddenly, that she’s talking about Rose._

_Most of the time, they avoid discussing the past, so the question certainly takes him by surprise. But after giving it some thought, he nods. “Yes.”_

_“Did you think she’d be with you forever?”_

_The Doctor’s eyes grow sad, and he shakes his head almost imperceptibly. “No. I always felt… I always felt, somehow, like I was bound to lose her.”_

_“Do you think you’ll lose me too?”_

_All of a sudden, she sounds hesitant, and he finds it disconcerting; Donna Noble is rarely hesitant about anything. The Doctor immediately pulls her into a tight hug and kisses the crown of her head. “I refuse to lose you.”_

*

                He tells himself that he didn’t lose her, not really. Because even though he’s not with her, she’s safe somewhere, she’s happy.

                While he says that, he doesn’t believe it. Because the Doctor… he knows Donna. He knows that regardless of the state of her memories of him, she’ll have the sense to know something is gone. She’ll miss him and she won’t even know what she’s missing.

                It might be worse than the state he’s in.

*

                _“Look at the state of this place…” Donna murmurs, glancing around her room. “I don’t know, Doctor, shagging you might not be worth it if I have to clean up a mess like this every time.”_

_Missing the teasing look in her eyes, he begins to protest._

_She swats his arm. “It was a joke, Spaceman. Why on earth would I make a conscious decision to never do that again?”_

_Now the Doctor grins. “That’s a very good question.”_

_“Oi! No getting cocky, either.”_

_He has a right to be cocky, though; the most important woman in his universe is in love with him. So he can’t help it if the thought of that is enough to make his heart burst with pleasure._

*

                Sometimes when she wakes up, her head hurts so much she feels like it could burst. It’s always after she has one of those dreams—mad dreams where she’s surrounded by the most unusual types of people and doing the most extraordinary things, all of them with that one man in common.

                Donna wonders about that man, with his wild expressions, his erratic hair.

                She could swear that she knows him.

                Ridiculous, of course. Those are just dreams, dreams that she goes to great lengths to ignore.

                Mostly, because beyond knowing him, some of those dreams suggest that she has… rather strong feelings for him.

                And she’s never loved anybody like she loves that man in her dreams, so clearly he’s nothing but that: a dream.

*

_“I’m scared that one day I’ll wake up and this will be nothing but a dream.”_

_“This isn’t a dream.”_

_“That’s exactly what you would say if this were a dream.”_

_He chuckles, grazing his thumb across her collarbone. “Does that feel like a dream?”_

_She catches his eye and raises an eyebrow at him. “Yes?”_

_“Really.” The Doctor goes to her neck and starts kissing it._

_“Still most definitely a dream,” she breathes._

_Donna is certain that this can’t possibly be a dream._

_“Donna?”_

_“Yes, Doctor?”_

_“Donna, wake up.”_

_“What—“_

*

                “Wake up, Donna!”

                Her head is pounding.

                As always, it was just a dream.

*

The first time she sees him, she’s certain it’s just a dream—because of course, it’s always a dream.

                But he’s on the other side of the street, strolling along with his hands in his pockets and gazing into store windows.

                As she watches, someone runs up and links arms with him. A blonde woman, wide grin on her face.

                Just this woman’s appearance is enough to prompt the man to start grinning too.

                Donna misses that grin.

                Except she doesn’t even know the man, so how could she miss it?

*

                _When Donna Noble wakes up, she won’t know him. He holds her in his arms, fighting back tears._

_The Doctor can’t quite bear to let her go._

*

                He hasn’t let her go. He’s not sure if he ever will.

                That’s his only explanation for returning.

                Of course, he didn’t end up in that time, in that place, with the intention of seeing her. But he glances at the calendar and something surfaces in his mind, something from long ago.

                Donna’s birthday.

*

                Her son is screaming, the television is blaring, and the dog won’t stop barking.

                So of course, the doorbell has to ring.

                “Yes?” she snarls, yanking the door open.

                A young man is standing in front of her, dressed in a… unique way; he can’t be over 30, but he’s wearing a bow tie and a tweed jacket, all too similar to what friends of her _grandfather_ might wear. He’s holding a large package and flashes some sort of ID that only barely registers in Donna’s brain. “Hello,” he says cheerfully. “I’ve got a package for you.”

                “A package?” She frowns slightly, gazing at it. “From whom?”

                The man glances down at the label then back up at her, and shrugs. “It doesn’t say, I’m sorry. I just deliver the packages, I’m afraid.” He holds it out to her. “Happy birthday.”

                She’s reaching out for it, but all of a sudden her eyes widen. “How’d you know it was my birthday?”

                His expression changes slightly and he scratches the back of his head. “Is it your birthday? That’s funny. I just say that to everyone—I figure if I say it enough, eventually I’ll be right.”

                Donna takes the package from him and smiles slightly. “Yes, you are right. Thank you. Have a good day.”

                The man actually salutes, and she chuckles as she closes the door.

                She brings the box to the kitchen and puts it down on the table before pulling at the tape.

*

                _He pulls another box out of his pocket. “’Course it is. How could I pass up the opportunity to give you something that puts a smile on your face?”_

_Donna eases it open, and he watches, nervous in spite of himself. Noticing how he’s tensed up, she elbows him gently. “Calm down, Spaceman. I’m sure I’ll love it.” She pushes aside the tissue paper and the Doctor stares intently at her._

_“Well?”_

_And just as he’d hoped, she smiles._

*

                He remembers that moment with absolute clarity. More than anything else they shared, he remembers that.

                And Donna does too, he knows it. Even if she doesn’t remember, it will mean something. That’s what matters to him.

*

                It makes her cry, and she’ll never quite understand why. 


End file.
